Modus Homerandi (formally known as Operation Homer)
by Freya the Snake Slayer
Summary: NEW CH 12: JACK IS USHERED OUT OF RETIREMENT TO ASSASSINATE A CULT LEADER (SORT OF..!) A series of surprising one-shots on Jack and Sam's flourishing relationship, beginning with Threads from the perspective of a fish and a Seussian-inspired rhyme! Marked as complete for now. The chapters can be read separately, or as a collective (there's an on-going story as well).
1. Baited Breath

**This is my attempt at covering a different angle of Threads. I really had to fish for it, because it's been somewhat overfarmed (wink, wink!) In case you haven't guessed, this fic will be written from the point of view of the fish in Jack's pond - well, sort of…**

 **This is a departure from my usual 'style,' so I hope it still floats your boat! For this and other aquatic-themed puns, please continue reading..! Freya x**

* * *

He'd successfully angled the largest fish in his recreational fishing career. This time he had no intention of throwing it back, and every intention of gloating about it.

This rare beauty had eluded him for years. It was his white whale.

It was unlike any vertebrate he'd encountered in the past. This one was highly evolved. From the moment it'd glided into his life, he'd been intrigued. It had appeared in his pond with something to prove, and dazzled him with its agility. Apparently, it had come from a prestigious school. At first, he'd tried not to notice it's well-developed eyes and sleek skin - but, hey...he was only human!

It had come during a time when he had sworn off fishing. He'd still been reeling from his last disastrous fishing trip, and wasn't sure if he had anything left to offer the sport. In light of his poor handling techniques, he'd made the conscience decision to abstain from all rod and tackle activities. For the most part, he was content - then, it came along and rippled his waters. It made him want to be a better...fisherman.

He was the first to admit, he'd misjudged it at first. He'd mistakenly measured it up against the others of its kind. He'd assumed it would be fragile - vulnerable to sighted predators. He was gravely mistaken. This fish could handle its own!

He enjoyed watching it interact with its environment. From what he'd witnessed, it seemed to be a creature of extremes. One minute, it would surprise him with its enthusiasm and intensity - the next, it would exhibit a kind of selective vulnerability reserved only for him. He found it disorientating and endearing.

In the wild, it had a sophisticated means of camouflaging itself. Although it's colouration was purely utilitarian, it wore it well. Unfortunately for him, it also turned the heads of other terrestrials. He suspected their motives weren't as pure as his. They seemed to desire it as a prize, a trophy to be preserved. They didn't value it for its fighting abilities. His inner fisherman didn't appreciate the way they caught and released it - but he knew it was tough, determined to survive in the turbid blue puddle.

He knew this particular fish was a protected species, but he found himself being drawn to it like an aggregating device. The more it was in his presence, the harder he found it to maintain a safe distance. In spite of himself, he couldn't resist testing the waters. He tempted fate and dropped in his barbless hook to see if he could entice a bite - but there was nothing. Either the fish was uninterested or distracted - he wasn't sure which. A few times he thought he felt a tug on his line, but it always went away as quickly as it came.

It had taken several years for him to realise he'd become obsessed. Although he hadn't dressed his rod, the fish had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. He made the difficult decision to pay out his line and ease up on his pursuit. He'd come to regard it as a national treasure, and he didn't want to prematurally remove it from the water - that'd be tantamount to killing it. He tried to justify his actions by claiming he was liberating the fish to facilitate its survival. So, he let the nylon go slack in his hands and vowed to wait and sea if conditions would change. Historically, he wasn't a patient man - but he knew the fish was worth the wait.

And he was willing to wait with baited breath.

Then came the day when it was unceremoniously plucked from his pond - caught by a younger, eager aquarist keen on domesticating it. He knew its colours were too bright for captivity, but he forced himself to believe it wanted to live in a glass cage.

In an effort to fill the auger-shaped hole in his chest, he decided to cast out his net to other freshwater creatures. Although he was out of practice, he managed to snag a lesser craniate. He didn't have to work hard to trawl it in, and it felt good to be back in the game. There was a part of him - a part he tried desperately to ignore, that missed the challenge and adventure of big game fishing. He may have caught this prey with natural bait, but it felt so artificial. It didn't take long for his catch to drop from his line, sensing his head wasn't in the sport.

Unbeknownst to him, the winds of change were shifting. There was a light breeze coming in from the west, the air pressure was rising and a few soft clouds were peppering the sky. In other words - optimum conditions for fishing. He couldn't remember a time when the conditions had been so perfect.

He wasn't the only one to notice. With the foul taste of aquarium living still fresh in its mouth, the fish had returned to the pond with a renewed sense of confidence. It was finally ready to enact the ultimate strike.

He wasn't expecting it, but after 8 years of waiting - he felt something akin to a pull at the end of his pole. Without disrupting the prevailing current, he checked his bite indicator - there was definitely something there!

For the last time, he put his heart on the line and dangled the bait...

"Hey Carter, wanna go fishing?"


	2. Operation Homer

**I wasn't having a great day today, but this popped into my head - and suddenly all was right with the world! Ahh...the magic of an S and J story. It's like popping bubble wrap for the soul! Freya x**

* * *

He didn't know what to do with his hands. He was a man of action. He hated all this waiting. He needed something inanimate to keep this fingers busy and his mind occupied - something to channel his anxiety. Where was his yo-yo when he needed it?

For the sixth time in five minutes, he checked his watch. Were minutes longer on this planet? He'd have to ask Carter.

He wished she was here. She always knew what to do when things seemed utterly hopeless. For now, he'd have to content himself with Teal'c and Daniel's presence - and even they appeared nervous.

He chanced a look at Daniel, who offered him a supportive smile.

They'd both been in similar situations before, but no amount of experience could have prepared them for this. Sure, they'd been on the front lines, but this time it felt different. This time, he felt like more people were invested in this mission. If it failed, he knew the repercussions would affect his whole team - hell, the whole base. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if it didn't pan out.

He only hoped there'd be fewer casualties than last time. Last time he and his partner had barely made it out alive.

Truth be told, he never thought he'd be involved in something to this scale again. He was only getting older and very few worn-out General's like himself were lucky enough to be offered a second opportunity - but, here he was.

When the strategising had been in its infancy, he'd had reservations of his worth to the project. He'd even voiced his concerns to General Hammond. Although he'd gotten a bit soft during his stint at Homeworld Security, his former commander had assured him he was the right man for the job. He'd also promised things wouldn't get too out of hand. He could always count on the older man for sound career and personal advice.

Despite his nervousness, he felt honoured. After months of working in the confines of his small office, it was easy to forget what adrenaline felt like. He could feel the familiar build-up in his veins and it felt like coming home.

His wandering eyes caught those of Anise. The female Tok'ra was speaking in hushed tones to another operative (who's name had escaped him). She looked battle ready, and he hoped she wouldn't do anything too rash.

He tugged at the sleeve of his shirt and patted down his pockets to ensure he was still well-equipped.

Teal'c was standing off to his left, sporting his usual stoic expression. Hopefully he wouldn't have to enact any Jaffa revenge today - he'd hate to be on the receiving end of the warrior's rage if things didn't work out. He shuddered at the thought.

He glanced around the field. He felt like everybody was looking at him for answers. The whole mission had been planned out in meticulous detail - from the location, to the position of each soldier and civilian on the day.

The operation had been in the works for years - he knew the team and the plays, but he still felt unprepared.

Carter had been concerned he'd forget the objective of the mission. She'd made him recite it repeatedly until he'd committed it to memory.

She'd been instrumental in pulling it all together and he was proud of her command skills. She assured him his contribution was invaluable, but he still felt like the silent partner.

She'd even let him name the mission. He'd agonised over it for days, before landing on Operation Homer. Carter had normally snagged the naming rights in the past, and he quietly thought she'd abused the privilege (DHD...come on, where's the originality?!)

He was sure she felt sorry for him. He'd had a rough year in Washington trying to juggle his full-time desk job and maintain a presence on the project in Colorado Springs. He thought relinquishing her naming rights was her attempt at making him feel more involved. He admired her integrity. It was a rare thing in Washington.

He just prayed they wouldn't let her down.

The air was buzzing with anticipation. From a quarter of a klick away, the chevrons on the Stargate were lighting up one by one.

Everybody was posed for action.

A group of armed officer's readied themselves by the gate. The event horizon burst forth with a whoosh.

For a split second, he considered deserting the cause - but Jack O'Neill was no quitter. He was a man of his word. Plus, Carter would have his six if he aborted now - likely hung and quartered. No, he would see this through to the end.

A cacophony of battle horns told him it was time and he lifted his eyes to assess the incoming traveller.

At first, he saw Hammond. His features had a pinkish hue and he wondered if the strains of the mission had caused him undue stress. He had something pale and elegant resting on his hand as he glided through the blue puddle.

Hot on his heels was the whole reason for this affair - all 5 feet and 7 inches of her. She was decked out in a strapless, white satin gown and wore a delicate tulle veil that cascaded over her bare shoulders.

As he sized her up he suddenly forgot how to breath. He watched her carefully - as he had all those years in the field - as she took each step with purpose.

She carefully navigated the stone steps before raising her head to meet his gaze. Her mouth broadened into a blinding smile and she gave him a cheeky wink. With that one look, it felt like all of his concerns and burdens had been released.

In many ways, this mission had been his hardest to date, but it would go down in history as his most important. He hadn't had an easy life - not professionally or personally - but it comforted him to know that everything he'd ever done (both good and bad) had lead to this.

This would be the last unofficial mission on his record before he hung-up his combat boots - and he wouldn't need to be ashamed of it. In fact, he suspected it gave him good reason to gloat.

He took Sam's hands and traced the scars on her left hand with his thumb.

He knew it sounded suspiciously like a cliche, but he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

They both turned to face the celebrant.

"Esteemed colleagues, distinguished government officials and valued allies," began Daniel. "We are gathered here today on the third moon of Moirai to celebrate the union of Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill and Samantha Carter…"


	3. The Matter that Matters

**Dear readers, this chapter is going to slot between Operation Homer and Minds Over Matter.**

 **I've added a dash of astrophysics to the romance genre cocktail, so hopefully it doesn't make everybody sick! Freya x**

 **WARNING: to those with a sugar intolerance, this fic is sickly sweet! Also navigate with caution, there's metaphors ahead**!

* * *

She couldn't observe it directly, or see it with the naked eye - but she knew it was there. It was woven into the fabric of her being. It was in the air around her. It ebbed and flowed through her body like an invisible tide. It was so insignificant, yet significant at the same time.

She'd first made the discovery eight years previous. It was purely by accident - like all cataclysmic revelations.

When she'd witnessed the two galaxies colliding, there'd been fireworks. It'd been equal parts exciting and terrifying. When she'd sifted through the debris, she'd noticed something unusual.

As a scientist, she knew that everything in the universe was constructed from the same basic materials. She'd been expecting to see evidence of these familiar building blocks - they were as reliable as old friends - but what she'd discovered blew her mind. There was a glimmer of something in the aftermath. A shadow lurking behind the familiar. She tried tracing it, but it was virtually impossible. It couldn't be weighed or measured and it didn't emit any light or energy. It was more of a feeling. She couldn't define it, but she sensed it was there - like a lingering scent betraying a departed soul. Without any quantifiable proof, she initially dismissed it as a random anomaly.

As the years progressed, her scientific mind drifted back to the anomaly. It haunted her like an unsolved mystery. She decided to revisit her original calculations. She tried to broaden her mind and look beyond what she thought was absolute law. She turned her attention to the centre of her galaxy and noticed her world was spinning faster than it should. In fact, the outside was also moving at an alarming rate. She wondered why everything hadn't spun out into complete nothingness.

In a moment of divine introspection she realised it was the anomaly. It was responsible for holding everything together. It was the orchestral conductor keeping her galaxy spinning in perfect harmony.

This invisible force was strong, in spite of its size. She theorised it was at least five times stronger than anything else in her galaxy. It was everywhere, and it would always be there - surrounding her like a diffuse cloud.

In comparison, everything else in her galaxy appeared predictable and sterile. This anomaly was an extra little 'bit' - the pinch of cinnamon to her cosmic recipe. Despite its almost imperceptible size, it elevated her galaxy from ordinary to extraordinary.

She didn't understand its basic structure, and she suspected she never would. It was complicated and interesting in a way that went beyond her current understanding of astrophysics. She tried not to over-analyse it. She didn't want to remove the magic from her galaxy.

* * *

Sam rose from her chair and took a few tentative steps forward. She smoothed out the non-existent creases in her outfit and glanced over her shoulder to Jack. He flashed her a hesitant smile and nodded in silent support. She turned to face the audience. She cleared her throat and self-consciously tucked a blond curl behind her ear. She leaned towards the microphone.

"Esteemed colleagues, family, friends and valued allies. Thanks for your attendance today. We're so grateful you could bare witness to this auspicious event, that's been 8 years in the making!"

Walter Harriman stood from his chair and hooted a "whoop whoop!"

Sam briefly bowed her head in embarrassed, before composing herself.

"Everybody knows that Jack and I met through work. Unfortunately, most of our job is classified, which prohibits me from going into the details.."

A chorus of 'boos' sung out around the auditorium.

"However, I am allowed to discuss my field of expertise - astrophysics."

Sam could hear a groan emanating from Jack's direction.

"I'll keep it short and relevant, I promise!"

"...like we haven't heard that before!" shouted a disembodied voice. It sounded suspiciously like "three-drink" Daniel channelling his inner Jack, but she couldn't get a visual.

A roar of laughter erupted from the Stargate personnel in the audience.

"It occurred to me the other day that love is like dark matter. We can't see it or interact with it, but it's there. It's like an invisible force." She paused, allowing the crowd to marinate in her musings.

She continued, "When Jack and I first met and our galaxies collided - metaphorically speaking - there were fireworks. It was unexpected, exciting and a little bit terrifying. When I replayed the event over in my head, my calculations came out all wrong! There was something about that first encounter that I wasn't factoring in. Hidden behind the boasting, arrogance and eagerness to please - on my part - was an unidentifiable matter. I initially chalked it up to a random anomaly; a meaningless glitch that wasn't important enough to scrutinise. As the years passed by, I came to realise that this 'anomaly' wasn't insignificant at all."

"The high pressure nature of our jobs forced me to take stock of my life on numerous occasions. We've been in a lot of dangerous and potentially life-threatening situations over the past eight years - each one of them different - but when I analysed them individually, I found that same anomaly. When I dug a little deeper, I discovered it was everywhere. It wasn't obvious or pretentious, but it was there - surrounding me like a homogeneous bubble. In fact, it was the reason I hadn't spun completely out of control. It was pulling everything in my galaxy together and holding it in place. It was a bizarre and crucial ingredient that I didn't understand, but I couldn't live without. It started out as tolerance, then quickly developed into admiration, then morphed into attraction and finally matured into love."

A wave of "awwws" rippled across the room. She chanced a look at Jack. His face was contorted with a mixture of discomfort and reverence.

"Jack, our love defies my current understanding of the word. It's expanded my mind in a way I didn't think possible. It can't be weighed or measured, but it's the glue holding my galaxy together."

She swallowed back the tears that brewed behind her eyes. She raised her glass.

"To my new husband, Jack - the only matter that matters in my life!"

Jack waded across the stage through a sea of applause and tenderly cupped her face with his hands. She blinked, and a single tear dislodged from her duct and travelled down her rosy cheeks. He ran his thumb across the soft skin before releasing his grip.

His hand curled around the microphone. "Avert your gaze, kids - public display of affection coming up…"

He spun around, catching Sam off-guard and dipped her backwards. Their lips met in a kiss that reverberated through her baryonic material and echoed through the universe.


	4. Minds Over Matter vs Matter of the Mines

He was imprisoned in a hell of his own making - trapped by a pint-sized dictator.

It was unlike any enemy he'd come across in the past. This one had demands he couldn't meet, and motives he didn't understand. Pleasing this warrior had become a full-time occupation, and he couldn't sleep neither day or night. He felt like he was in a constant state of panic. He was sure he'd never worked so hard in his life, but maybe he was just getting old.

Carter had been so enthusiastic about the mission in the beginning, but now she was exhausted. The small, unrelenting force had bought her to within an inch of her sanity. He'd tried to cover her workload, but the dictator had requirements that only she could meet. He was used to dealing with patriarchal societies, but this tyrant was progressive! It was practically obsessed with her…"womanly assets." He couldn't blame it. They were spectacular - even more so now. That said, it's view of them appeared to be purely utilitarian. It was hard to be jealous of that.

There it was again. The nightly battle cry. The wails permeated his dreams and jostled him from his light slumber. He stilled - waiting to see if it would pass, or if he'd be called to duty. He could hear Carter whimper in frustration beside him.

"What do you think it wants?"

Lately, she'd been referring to the commander as an 'it' rather than referring to it's gender, or using an honorific. It was her way of venting her frustration at the dictator's seemingly inhuman behaviour. In spite of the mogul's treatment of them, he'd developed a soft spot for it. It must be the way it presented itself. It's outfits were kind of...cute, for lack of a better word.

When the dictator wasn't raining terror upon them, the mission had been enjoyable. At the very least, he and Carter were together - and they vowed to remain together, regardless of what the tiny tyrant threw at them (which sometimes included excrement and masticated food - yuck).

He missed the days when the enemy would sequester them to work in the mines. As Carter liked to remind him, this was more minds over matter than a matter of them in the mines. Those had been simpler days, although there were some similarities - he couldn't remember the last time either of them had eaten a square meal, or had a proper shower. As least Daniel had been helpful this time! Daniel had been instrumental in distracting the dictator so he and Carter could have a sneaky nap on the job.

The call to arms continued and he turned to Carter.

"I'll see what it wants. If I don't come back in 15 minutes, send a search party."

She raised a hand in silent acknowledgment.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, noticing the course stubble that had taken up residence on his face. He wasn't sure where the dictator stood on facial hair, but he was too tired to care. He normally wouldn't capitulate to slave drivers, but these were special circumstances.

He begrudgingly shuffled to the dictator's quarters. He stopped at the door jam and peered inside. A multi-coloured light shone from a power source in the corner of the room and illuminated the tyrant's throne.

"And what do you want at this late hour?"

The tycoon stared at him through waterlogged eyes and extended its chubby arms.

He plucked it from its bed chamber and sat down with it on his lap. It considered him carefully before roughly throwing it's arms around his neck.

"Jacob, what's the matter?"

His lower lip quivered and he let out a few short gasps.

"Dada," he blubbered between sobs.

Finally relenting, he wrapped his arms around his son and ran a soothing hand over his back. Jacob nuzzled into his father's neck and closed his eyes.

Sam awoke to an empty bed. She checked the time. It had been two hours since Jack had left. She threw her legs over the side of the mattress and went in search of her husband.

She cautiously peeped into Jacob's room. She was overcome by feelings of love at the sight before her. The arms that once held a P-90 with such precision had gently encapsulated their infant son in a warm and secure embrace.

This had been the most challenging and rewarding incarceration of her life, but she wouldn't change it for the world.


	5. Plane and Simple

**May this chapter keep you guessing and make you smile. Freya x**

* * *

He'd been trying to mount a successful airstrike for weeks, but to no avail. Their fuel and supplies were dwindling, and team morale was low.

He'd dove deep into his military handbook and used every formation, strategy and maneuver he could think of.

They'd tried executing an air combat maneuver, but no amount of fancy flying had helped. He'd pulled out his best moves - utilized every skill he'd acquired during his 30 plus years of military service. Carter had even tried some new aerial acrobatics, but it hadn't gained them any advantage - neither offensively or defensively. When flying solo hadn't worked, they'd tried flying in formation. He'd theorised that this would minimise drag and allow them to concentrate their fire power. He'd tried taking command, while she'd flown second seat - but in spite of their flight capabilities and maneuverability, their efforts were ineffective.

They thought an aerial demonstration might prove their seriousness to the target, but they were only met with laughter and crude projectiles. They'd tried analysing the projectiles to gain some insight into the target's modus operandi. While the size of the missiles varied, they were definitely self-propelled and short range. What they knew for certain was they weren't naquador-enhanced. Their mark seemed to favour more organic materials.

When their aerial antics had proved unproductive, they'd tried switching vehicles. They'd deployed fighters, bombers and helicopters, but their mark had remained unmoved. It had demonstrated an innate ability to thwart their movements at every turn. He suspected it was using inertial dampeners.

As far as he could tell, the whole situation was a little less 'strike eagle' and a little more of him striking out. It seemed the only g-force he was pulling these days were g-rated curses - with force!

He needed to take control of the situation!

For the briefest of moments, he considered switching torque for talk. Although he preferred action over speech, he could usually see the merits in negotiation. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. Normally he'd turn to Daniel to broker a mutually beneficial treaty, but the target had an obscure dialect that even he didn't understand.

Despite the language barrier, the target understood action. In that respect they were compadres - cut from the same mould. It looked too young to have acquired the knowledge from experience, so he assumed it had genetic memory.

He wished it was more plane and simple.

In a last ditch effort to gain some foothold on the situation, they'd called in some closed air support. With a hostile target such as theirs, they needed to bring in a trained observer to coordinate with their friendly ground troops. He was hoping the observer would help them hit their target without incurring any casualties. While the observer was able to offer some invaluable insight into the target's motives, its tenure was short-lived. Unfortunately, it'd grossly underestimated the situation and fallen victim to friendly fire. He hated losing people in the line of duty.

He'd reached the end of his tether. He'd never condoned bribery or corruption - not during his entire administration, but he could feel himself starting to weaken.

He had one more move left. It was their last resort. He was going to consult with a civilian advisor.

"Daniel," he ran his hand across the back of his neck, "I'm running out of options here."

"Ok, Jack," his friend said in soothing tones, "Talk me through your strategy. What have you tried so far?"

"We've tried being creative in our delivery - you know, changing-up the flight pattern…"

Daniel furrowed his brow.

Jack sighed and rubbed at his temples, "...you know, when you feed a kid and pretend the spoon is an airplane..?"

Daniel mouthed an 'ah.'

"Well, Jakey has these Air Force-themed spoons that he really loves - there's a strike eagle, a bomber, a helicopter," he counted out on his fingers, "They were a gift from General Hammond. We thought they'd help him transition into eating solids, but he doesn't seem interested."

The retired General slouched in his chair. "We've tried using the different spoons, tried feeding him simultaneously…"

"Wait, what good would that do?"

"We thought if we concentrated our fire power - so to speak, some of the food would get through."

"Interesting approach."

"Yeah. Anyway, we've also tried feeding him from different angles and feeding ourselves first," he met his friend's worried stare, "so he knows it's safe to eat…"

"...right...of course," Daniel stuttered.

"If I'm honest, neither of us have much fuel left in the tank. We're both exhausted. We haven't even been grocery shopping."

Daniel nodded in understanding.

"Jacob seems more interested in throwing the food, then eating it."

"Didn't you have a pediatrician come to visit?"

"Yeah," Jack began, "She didn't stay very long. She took some pumpkin puree to the eye."

Daniel grimaced in sympathy, "Ouch."

"...well, there's that. You should see this kid dodge a spoonful of vegetables...it's like watching Muhammad Ali defend his title."

"I don't know how helpful I'm going to be, Jack. If Jake was a system Lord, we might be able to work something out…" Daniel's face lit-up with a smile.

Jack narrowed a 'don't go there' stare at the archeologist.

Daniel awkwardly cleared his throat. "So...hey! Why don't you ask Teal'c? He has a son."

"Yeah, I thought about that…"

"O'Neill," Teal'c bellowed from the front door.

"It's open, T!"

Moments later, the trio had convened in the kitchen. Jacob was strapped into his highchair with a bowl of mash at his fingertips.

Jack dug into the mash with a spoon and scooped out a sizeable mouthful.

"Okay Jakey, here comes the airplane…" he drew his arm back and zoomed the utensil towards the baby's mouth. Jacob raised his tiny hands to block the spoon and forcefully pushed it away.

"See what I'm dealing with here?" Jack's voice came out sounding more strained than he'd intended.

"Okay, Jack...step away from the spoon." Daniel lifted the utensil from Jack's grasp and placed it on Jacob's highchair tray. "Teal'c, any thoughts?"

The Jaffa turned to face Jack. To the untrained eye, his expression would have appeared indifferent - but Jack could read the subtleties of his face. He was confused and slightly diverted.

"Why would a child want to consume an aircraft?"

Daniel and Jack exchanged a fleeting look.

"I guess it's because the mouth is kinda like a hanger…" Jack shook his head, "I don't know, Teal'c. It's just a weird Earth thing. You have a son. How did you get him to eat?"

"On Chulak, we have an old Jaffa trick that has proved most effective in the past," Teal'c stated dryly, "Would you permit me to try it?"

"Yes, thanks buddy!" Jack's features softened with relief and he took a step back, "I trust you. Do what you need to do."

Teal'c levelled his dark brown eyes with Jacob's bright blue ones. The baby's long eyelashes beated hard against his soft cheek, but he appeared largely unbothered by his surrogate uncle's presence.

"Jacob O'Neill, you must eat your vegetables if you wish to be a strong warrior like your Mother and Father."

Jacob's tiny digits slowly wrapped around the spoon and he roughly jabbed it into his open mouth, his eyes never leaving the former first prime's. He chewed a few times, then swallowed.

"T, you did it!" Jack slammed an open palm across the older man's back. "You're the baby whisperer! You realise, you're never leaving this house again."


	6. The Six-Sided Stratagem

**This one goes out to dpdp. Hopefully it keeps you guessing :) Freya x**

* * *

In an uncharacteristically careless move, he'd left the game plan in enemy territory. The blueprint was crucial to his assignment and he couldn't leave it unattended.

He surveyed the dimly lit landscape. He'd received some intelligence that the ground was littered with landmines. He'd have to be cautious. He took a tentative step forward before sidestepping to the left - then to the right. It was going to take a lot of agility and concentration to avoid the booby traps, and he was worryingly out of shape.

He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth as he carefully considered his next move. He rose on his toes, then crouched to his knees to gain a better understanding of the terrain.

He retrieved the torch from his belt and shone it onto the ground in front of him. It didn't look good. The surface was riddled with shiny shrapnel.

He couldn't see the game plan from where he stood - he needed to find higher ground. He squinted to sharpen his vision and noticed a small mound in front of him. He mentally calculated the distance and did a quick risk assessment - he should be able to make it from his position. Ignoring the sharp pain in his knees, he leapt into the air. He exhaled as his feet landed on the protrusion. The flat surface was a lot smoother than he'd anticipated and his left foot slid off and made contact with a razor-sharp shell. A sharp hiss escaped his mouth. He fought the urge to swear and bent his injured foot around to survey the damage. Luckily, his skin hadn't broken. He rubbed at the wound. It was probably going to leave a nasty bruise. He quickly composed himself and inspected the area again from his new vantage point. From here, he could see the blueprints. They were unguarded!

He noticed a discarded cloth nearby and roughly threw it over the shrapnel. He turned and silently signalled for his counterpart to follow him. Once he was sure his colleague had made it to safe ground, he took the final few steps towards the documents. He grasped them firmly with both hands and felt a wave of relief wash over him. They were still intact.

He closed his eyes and slouched against a nearby wall, allowing himself to slide to the floor. This had been a harrowing experience! He beckoned for his offsider to join him. The younger man obeyed. He cast a concerned eye over his form and noticed how dishevelled he looked. The light had faded from his bright blue eyes and his hard hat was sitting slightly askew from an earlier altercation. He also looked sleep deprived - but rest would have to wait.

He wordlessly handed him the plans. His counterpart passed them between his digits before placing them on the floor in front of him. Their eyes met for a brief moment and he gave the recruit a nod of consent. The rookie extracted a red marker from the outer pocket of his shirt and used it to highlight a few pressure points on the game plan.

They were quickly running out of time. They only had a few hours of daylight left to execute the plan. He gave his counterpart a knowing look. They both took a moment to read over the paperwork. For the first time, he felt overwhelmed by its contents. It was practically written in a foreign language! He'd spent most of his adult life in the military, but these instructions made no sense. He ran a hand across the back of his neck and shook his head. This was going to be difficult. He dug out their supplies and splayed them across the ground in front of him. They'd have to make do with what they had. It might be possible to MacGyver something useable from the materials at their disposal.

They'd done it! There was no denying the execution wasn't perfect, but the end product was serviceable. If Carter didn't agree, she could fix it herself. He had every faith in her abilities.

"Hey! Where are you?" she called.

He looked at his watch. It was two hours past her scheduled check-in.

"We're over here!" he bellowed, "Are you okay?"

As the sound of her footsteps grew closer a panic started to rise in his throat.

"How was the OBGYN?"

She materialised at the doorway of the playroom, a delirious smile dancing at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah, good...really good," her hand fell to her slightly swollen belly, "Everything is progressing nicely."

"I'm glad to hear."

"Ummm...Jack? What's going on?" She took a step forward, "It looks like a Lego bomb went off in here." She threw her husband a puzzled look from across the room, "How did you even make it over there without hurting yourself?"

"Skill, Carter."

She raised a single eyebrow, channeling her inner-Teal'c.

"I used the foot rest to jump over the blocks, then I laid down the rug so Jake could follow."

She shook her head in disbelief, "You know it would've been easier to just pick-up the Lego."

"Since when do we take the easy way out, Carter?" he glanced down at his son, "Plus, it was a lot more fun this way." He flashed her a lopsided smile.

Jacob placed a hand on his father's shoulders and used the grip to stand to his feet. He made a jagged beeline towards his mother with his chubby arms outstretched.

"Mama!"

Sam knelt on the carpet and Jacob ran into her embrace. She turned him in her grasp and plucked the camouflaged helmet from his head.

"Is this my hat from work?"

"Yeah," Jack admitted, "We were playing military."

She scooped up their son and rested him on her hip. In a few long and nimble strides she'd crossed the playroom to stand in front of her husband.

"Have you assembled the new cot yet?"

He slowly pushed himself to his feet. He could feel his facial features contort into an expression of guilt.

Her eyes shifted to the floor.

"What's this all over the manual?" She bent over to pick it up off the floor, "Is that red crayon?"

He nodded, "My assistant here made a few...amendments."

She toed at the disfigured metal frame resting at their feet, "Jack, this doesn't look right."

"Carter, you practically need a degree to assemble this IKEA furniture." He huffed. "I did the best I could."

"Hmmm…" she flipped the diagram around and handed it back to him, "you were looking at it upside down."

His palm connected with his forehead, "Doh!"

Jacob, who'd been carefully watching the interaction between his parents brought a tiny hand to his head.

"Da!" he mimicked.

Her eyes fluttered between her son and her husband. The bottom half of her face looked angry, but the top half appeared amused, "Jack, what are you teaching our son?"

"Hey..!" he whined in mock offense, "He could do a lot worse than emulating Mr Homer J Simpson!"

She rolled her eyes and sighed, "I hope we're having a baby girl, because I can't handle another O'Neill man."


	7. Domestic Blitz

**Many thanks to those who've supported this project thus far - I've been overwhelmed by the response! Just to offer some clarification, my intention is not to question Jack's intelligence, but to capture some of the magic in a father-son relationship. I like to think that being a father again gives Jack the chance to really embrace his "childish" side - in a good way!**

 **Anywho, here's something silly for your weekend! :) Freya x**

 **PS: I was thinking about mussing around with the chapter sequences to fill in some of the story gaps. Does that interest anybody, or would it just be confusing?**

* * *

It smelled like something had died conducting an unsanctioned experiment. The odour penetrated his nostrils and made him shudder. He turned to his colleague in the hope of exchanging a look of disgust with him, but he was - what? Picking his nose? He remembered a time when the military recruitment standards were a lot stricter - but he digressed. He had to get them out of here! He didn't want to lose another good man to this oppressive regime.

Beyond the open plains laid their salvation. It was barely half a klick away, but there was nothing to disguise their approach - no boulders or trees of any kind. They'd have to get creative. He made a few hand gestures to his colleague. The younger man froze - his finger still occupied, before nodding in recognition and producing a phial. He cast a thoughtful eye over the object - they'd distract the enemy with a homemade smoke bomb! The delivery device was unconventional, but it should create an effective diversion.

He silently signalled for his offsider to remain stationary - after all, distracted personnel can be a liability. He shimmered forward on his belly to take a closer look. From his position he could see at least one motionless body. He glanced to the heavens and said a silent prayer for the poor soul that had fallen at the butcher's hands.

In spite of its lifeless condition, the slaughterer was still welding a knife. A light glistened off the blade, accentuating it's sharpness and girth as the slayer raised it up, then brought it down with impressive force. The dagger sliced through the flesh and splintered the joints with a bone-shattering crunch. He winced. He'd witnessed a lot of atrocities in his time, but it still hadn't gotten any easier. In some ways, it was a comforting thought - he was still emotionally and cognitively healthy (relatively speaking). He spared a thought for his counterpart. He was still young and inexperienced.

He was suddenly filled with renewed fervor - he'd get his recruit to safety, even if it cost him! He was intimately familiar with the butcher's body of work and he knew he'd pay dearly if they were caught.

He wiggled back to his colleague. It was time to deploy the weapon! He took in a lung full of air before twisting off the top and hurdling the canteen into the slayer's lair.

The carafe gracefully spiralled through the air, pirouetting in a tight circle as it fell. It completed its final rotation, then hit the cement floor at an angle - omitting a plume of fine white dust as it exploded. The butcher wailed and groaned - it was a direct hit!

It was time to move. He wrapped an arm around his counterpart and flung him over his shoulder. He checked to see that the slaughterer was still occupied before making a dash for freedom. They burst through the doorway, then ducked behind a half-wall. He clutched the ensign to his chest and concentrated on regulating his breathing. The rookie squirmed beneath his fingers then spun around to face him. His blue eyes looked hopeful. He extended his hands to offer up the bounty held tightly in his grasp.

"What have you go there? Is that a cookie?" He asked, "Did you grab that from the countertop as we ran passed the kitchen?"

His son nodded.

"Way to go, Jakey! I'm not sure what Daniel's cooking, but I have a feeling I'd prefer oatmeal."

Jacob's face contorted and he poked out his tongue in disgust.

"Exactly," agreed Jack, "Let's see what we have here..."

There was something peculiar about this confection. He poked at it, then experimentally tapped it against the ground - it was a fake..!

The cookie was a decoy!

"Jake, fall out, fall out!"

The sound of Daniel clearing his throat brought him back to reality.

"Jack, when I invited you and Jake over for lunch I wasn't expecting to be pelted with..." He wiped at his face and brought a sample of the substance to his nose,"...is that talcum powder?"

Jack smirked and shrugged. He gave his son a nudge with his arm.

"Hey Daniel, it wasn't my idea."

Daniel took off his glasses and used the hem of his shirt to clean the lenses.

"Are you expecting me to believe that an innocent little boy hatched this...scheme?"

"Well, he's obviously inherited his mother's brains and his father's military mind."

Jack turned to beam proudly at his son, but his finger was once again occupied.

Daniel coughed to stifle a laugh, "...you were saying?"

"Hey, don't let this...bout of nasal excavation fool you, he's as smart as a whip."

"Hmmm. Jack, is that one of my...?" He motioned towards the ornamental cookie.

"Oh, yeah," he handed the biscuit back to Daniel, "Why do you have a toy cookie anyway?"

"I thought Jake might like to play with them. I bought some other toy food for him too."

Jack offered Daniel an awkward smile, "Do you think we could eat those for lunch instead?"


	8. Meet and Potatoes

Her heart thumped hard against her rib cage. She took a few steps backwards until she was flush against the wall. She grabbed a cloth from her pants pocket and dabbed at the sweat on her brow. She peered around the corner to confirm her initial sighting. Unfortunately she'd been correct - it was definitely him. She felt a wave of anxiety flood her system. She couldn't let him see her. The outcome would be catastrophic.

Her only chance of survival was to find a more defensible position. Her military training told her to take higher ground. She glanced around. The entire area was a plateau! She'd have to bunker down somewhere until the danger had passed. She'd have to settle in for the long haul.

She took inventory of her supplies. She had enough food to last her for several days, but not enough drinking water. She needed to find a fresh supply to boost her stock - and by extension, her chances of survival. She closed her eyes and dove deep into her memory bank. Ah! Insects and animals needed water! If she could find an insect, bird or mammal, they might lead her to a fresh water supply. She searched her surroundings - there was honey, but no bees; there were birds, but they were all dead; there were mammals, but they were cut up into tiny pieces.

This was going to be harder than she thought!

She scanned the landscape again. There it was, a clear sign. There was definitely water in the vicinity! She shook her head in disbelief - how had she missed it? She'd been feeling a bit off her game lately, but she needed to pull herself together. This was life or death. She crouched down as low as she could and ran.

She placed her hands on her knees and sucked in a few deep breaths. She remembered a time when she was a lot fitter. It seemed so long ago. She quickly regained her composure and straightened up. She cupped her hands together and reached for the water source. She eagerly gulped down the cold liquid and let a few droplets trickle down her chin. It tasted like natural spring water. She ran the back of her hand across her mouth. She'd have to decanter some of this for later.

She froze. She could hear him now. He was closing in on her position. For now, she still had the upper hand - he hadn't seen her yet. She ducked behind a nearby wall and allowed herself a moment to relax. She slid to the floor. She was struggling to keep her eyes open. She was so tired. This was supposed to be a routine exercise. At the start of the day, she hadn't imagined this situation. She rummaged through her bag and fished out a protein bar. She needed to keep her strength up if she was going to continue evading detection. She'd just rest for a second...

Oh no! She must have accidentally fallen asleep. She awoke with a gasp. It took her a moment to reacquaint herself with her surroundings and the situation. She rubbed at her eyes. When her vision returned, she saw him. He was only a few meters from her position. If she moved now, she'd be made. She tucked her legs into her body and tried her best to blend in. She watched in trepidation as he walked over to her location. He paused briefly in front of her sanctuary. She held her breath and cast her eyes to the floor. She heard him take a few tentative steps forward, before striding away with more urgency. She expelled an audible sigh.

That was too close!

She needed to call for reinforcements. She reached for her communication device. She punched at the buttons, but nothing happened. She held it to her ear, turned it in her hands, then gave it a little shake - she must be out of range! She ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes. She'd have to rely on O'Neill's instincts. They'd always had a harmonious relationship. He seemed to sense when she was in need. She liked to think of it as a superpower, rather than intuition. She focused all her concentration into transmitting a mental S.O.S. She hoped he would receive it.

She waited for a few minutes before pulling herself to her feet. She dusted off her pants and straightened out her shirt. She needed a sound strategy. She grabbed her belongings. Retracing her steps was the best course of action. He was likely working solo, so he'd be more focused on covering new ground then backtracking. She pivoted on the balls of her feet and walked back in the same direction.

She turned a corner and there he was. It was too late. He'd seen her. She frantically scanned the area for something to use as a provisional shield. She grabbed a sandbag and held it tightly against her body.

A ball of dread formed around her uvula and she tried to swallow it. He made his way towards her.

"Pete…"

"Sam! Wow!" He gave her a chase kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Pete."

Pete stepped to one side of the aisle to let another shopper pass. He looked her up and down. "You look well. How have you been?"

Sam bit at her lower lip. "I'm doing really well, actually."

He glanced around to check if she was alone.

"So…" he let the word linger in the air.

She could feel the tension bubbling up between them like molten lava.

"So…" she echoed.

"Are you free for dinner tonight?

Her eyes began to wander. "Umm...not exactly."

Pete opened his mouth to speak, but his gaze shifted to an approaching body.

Jack walked towards them, thoughtfully reading the list of ingredients on a box of Fruit Loops. Apparently his senses had been out of range too. He looked at Sam, then shifted his attention to Pete.

His eyes narrowed as he mentally ran through his own facial recognition software. "Paul, right?"

The cop sneered. "No, Pete."

Sam looked uncomfortably between her husband and her ex-fiance.

Jack threw Pete a scrutinizing look. "What brings you to Safeway in this neighbourhood...Pete?" He made no attempts at disguising the disdain in his voice.

"I'm working with the local police on a case," his left eye winced, "You know how it his."

Jack's lips disappeared into a smirk. "Hmm," he mumbled in agreement.

"Where's Jacob?" Sam enquired, looking at her husband.

"He's just picking out a box of cereal."

"Your Dad's here?" Questioned Pete.

Sam grimaced. "No..."

Jacob emerged from the next aisle carrying a bag of oats. When he noticed the new face, he dropped the packet and hid behind his Mother.

He glanced up at Sam with unblinking eyes. "Mama?" They briefly flickered to Pete.

There was no denying the boy's parentage. He had Sam's bright blue eyes and his father's unruly hair and tanned complexion.

Sam swivelled slightly to bring Jake out from her shadow.

"Jake, this is Pete. He's a...friend of Uncle Mark's."

It felt like she'd taken a tranquilizer dart to their friendship. She'd deliberately glossed over the most important part, and that stung. He decided to set the record straight. He bent down to Jacob's level.

"Actually Jake, your Mother and I used to..."

Jacob backed into his father's legs and Jack dropped a hand to rest on his chest.

"Ah..!" Jack raised a finger on his opposite hand, "Don't confuse the boy, Paul. The details aren't important."

Pete didn't bother to correct the retired General. He knew the man was only trying to antagonize him.

Sam nervously tucked an errand strand of hair behind her right ear. She shifted the weight between her feet so she could better balance the bag of rice.

"Carter, you shouldn't be lifting that." Jack reached for the giant sack and pried it from her grasp.

She offered some resistance to the removal of her impromptu body shield, but relented. Her hands fell to the swell of her belly and she self-consciously splayed her fingers in an effort to disguise the obvious mound.

A mixture of emotions flashed across Pete's face as he watched her. He looked surprised, hurt and a little disgusted - as if somebody had inadvertently revealed the secret to his favourite magic trick.

His bottom jaw dropped, and he gestured to her stomach with the nod of his head.

"Mark never mentioned…" he stuttered, "So you're…" He couldn't bring himself to define Sam's condition.

"...pregnant with our second child, yes," Jack said, proudly finishing the younger man's thought.

Sam felt her cheeks fill with colour and she flashed Pete an awkward smile.

"Umm...I better go pay for this stuff. The...ice cream's melting," she gave Jack a knowing look before turning to Pete. "It was nice to see you. Jake, did you want to come with Mama?"

She lifted Jake into the trolley, before pushing it around the two men and making a mad dash for the registers. Jack waited for the squeak of the wheels to dissipate before turning back to his former rival.

He placed a hand on Pete's shoulder. "Looks like the best man won."

"Looks like the older man won," Pete mumbled.

Jack waited for the anger to swell up inside him, but found himself bursting with smug satisfaction instead. A grin spread across his mouth.

"Potato, potatoe."


	9. Frankly, My Donkey

**For those still reading, many apologies for the delay - the muse would** _ **NOT**_ **cooperate (I had to threaten it with a zat gun!) Freya x**

 **PS: I'm looking for some fresh inspiration, so if anybody has a story idea they'd like me to consider for this series - I'm all ears! Please feel free to drop me a message :)**

* * *

He'd unwittingly stabbed an ass - an ass with body dysmorphia.

After decades of military service, he'd developed a sort of precognitive awareness, but the whirl of activity around him had made him feel so...discombobulated.

From out of nowhere, a blindfold had been slapped over his eyes and something sharp was thrust into his open palm. Before he'd had a chance to evaluate his situation, his body had been spun around and around and he was violently pushed into a wall. He'd extended his arm in an effort to break his fall and made contact with something unfamiliar.

The group of natives that had gathered around him had gasped and clapped in reverence. He'd removed the cover from his eyes and felt instantly appalled.

He'd conducted unsanctioned tail transplant surgery.

He'd leaned in closer and noticed several holes and hesitation marks on the animal. Apparently, he hadn't been the only "fake physician" of the day.

He'd turned to confront the crowd and they'd seemed...happy! He'd felt a few hands make contact with his back - presumably in gratification, and one of the elder's had wordlessly handed him a token of appreciation. He'd opened the package to reveal a piece of advanced weaponry. He'd turned it over in his hands. The craftsmanship had been unfamiliar to him. It wasn't of Goa'uld or Tok'ra design - they'd have never used such outlandish colours. Fluorescent purple and pink were hardly conducive to effective camouflage. He'd starred down the barrel of the firearm and noticed it was sealed over. He'd experimentally pulled the trigger and it'd come ablaze with flashing lights. The weapon seemed to have no function, unless the trigger-man was expected to disorientate or hypnotise its enemy. He'd thrown the gift giver a puzzled expression, but was only offered a nod of encouragement in response.

He was left to wander the party aimlessly, with his new weapon safely holstered into his belt. He was desperately trying to piece together the events that had transpired, but he was still struggling to comprehend them. What kind of barbaric society was this - to torture an ass with a congenital deformity without consideration of the physical and psychological ramifications? He wasn't even sure if the animal had been properly anaesthetised first - not to mention the unconventional operating environment and the complete lack of sterilised equipment. As far as he could tell, this tribe was not only lacking anaesthetic - but also a collective conscience!

When he'd accepted the invitation to attend the Festival of the 36th Moon, he'd never imagined witnessing anything so depraved. He considered himself to be a worldly man - a universal man, even - but he'd never experienced anything like this. Not once.

Although the ritual had shaken him to his core, he decided to chalk it up to a cultural misunderstanding. This improved his mood considerably, and he felt strong enough to continue taking in the sights and scenes of the shindig.

He slowly moved through the festival and made a conscious effort to admire the small details - the smiles on the faces of the natives, the coloured floating sacks of gas, the pygmies violently beating an ass to death with a ceremonial stick..?!

He stopped in his tracks. Were his eyes deceiving him? He took a tentative step forward. The pygmies were repeatedly pommelling an ass as it hung helplessly from a tree. He watched in horror as they administered blow after blow, until the skin split open. He felt the bile rise in his throat as they cheered in jubilation and dove on the spilled intestines with carnivorous fervour. The equidae's entrails had a strange, sweet aroma, and seemed to be comprised of undersized fish and severed fingers. He could only assume the animal was forced to over-consume the items prior to death. He'd never seen anything so cruel.

He was beginning to find the behaviour of this tribe exceedingly confusing. From what he'd witnessed, the domesticated hoofed animal seemed to be of great cultural significance. However, based on their inhumane treatment of it, he couldn't ascertain whether they revered or despised it.

He forced down the rising levels of concern brewing in his belly, and decided to try the local delicacies. He'd been told the pygmies had a polarising palate. He reached for one of the delicate morsels and brought it to his nose. It smelled like animal bi-product, but he wasn't familiar with the species. He gave it a lick - it tasted savoury. Sensing his uncertainty, one of the natives told him the name of the dish. Instead of easing his mind, it only heightened his anxiety. Why would they wrap an omnivorous snouted animal in a woollen covering prior to consumption? If the purpose was the comfort the even-toed ungulate, it was definitely a case of too little, too late - in his opinion!

He began to fear what he'd see next. He normally didn't fear the unknown - fear had no place on the battlefields, but it was his companion today!

He turned a corner and almost lost his mammal meat. Without consultation, he'd found his leg tightly tethered to a young pygmy. His mind was swirling - what was the purpose of this custom? He looked at the other participants. In comparison, their limbs where somewhat... disproportionate. The prospect of having three legs seemed to excite the petite resident - and he hated to squelch the enthusiasm of the young. Although he had no knowledge of the custom, he could only see the disadvantages in having an extra appendage jointly operated by two distinct beings. He tried his best, but his tiny teammate had difficulties matching his pace. He thought he could carry his physically-challenged comrade across the line (as he would have in battle), but his chivalry was only met with disapproving groans and eye rolls from the natives.

He was trying to keep an open mind, but he could feel his hemispheres closing.

Before he could find his bearings, he was given the handle to a concave piece of stainless steel containing an ovum. One of the pygmies noticed the befuddled look on his face and told him to take the advice of the hair and move "slow and steady." The recommendation was lost on him. He'd never encountered a fibrous protein capable of intelligent speech. He asked what the consequences would be if he broke the fragile husk, and was told he'd lose. Lose what, exactly - he wasn't sure. It sounded so ominous! Was he responsible for sustaining this shelled life?

There was a loud bang and the other participants surged ahead. His heartbeat quickened. The expectations were too much! He couldn't handle the pressure! Ignoring the thunderous applause of the locals, he sped towards the sanctuary of the hut. In his haste to make a quick escape, he'd forgotten to dispose of the metal implement and embryo.

Upon reaching the shelter, he slumped against a wooden pillar and tried to align his chi. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface - he was scouring. He may have been dressed the part, but he wasn't acting the part. It suddenly hit him - he was an assassin of amusement, a party defecator, a damp woollen comforter. He'd heard that every party had one, but he never thought it'd be him!

He needed an attitude adjustment! His inability to embrace this new experience could cause irreparable damage to his relationship with the hosts.

He vowed to make more of an effort. His new motto would be - what would Daniel Jackson do? - he'd immerse himself in the new culture, reserving all judgement!

His eyes passed over the fairground and fell on a cluster of pygmies sitting in a sphere. They were tossing a crudely wrapped package between them in sync to a musical soundtrack. The melody was being played in short bursts, and when it stopped - a layer of the package was being torn away by the pygmy in possession of it.

For the first time since he'd arrived, fear paved way for curiosity. He'd come to understand that opening another's mail was a federal offence, but the natives didn't seem to care. He found their anarchistic behaviour fascinating! He decided to join in their lawless game.

When he approached the circle, two of the pygmies shuffled aside to make room for him. He sat between them with his legs crossed. The bundle bounced between them with the beat, eliciting excited squeals and giggles from the participating pygmies. He watched as it passed from one, to another before landing squarely in his lap. As he reached for it, the music stopped. Twelve pairs of eyes fell on him as he ran a fingertip along the underside of the seam. A few of the pygmies scooted forward in anticipation. It was the last layer! A chorus of "what is it" rung out around the group. He peeled the paper back to reveal…

A giant bag of...he turned the packet over in this hands - nerds? He'd heard O'Neill use the word on several occasions to describe Daniel Jackson and Captain/Major/Colonel Carter. He thought it was in reference to their love of science, not a sack of multi-coloured kernels. He opened the bag and offered the contents to his fellow competitors. Before he had the chance to brace himself, he was pounced on quicker than a Goa'uld to a Hok'tar. He managed to wriggle free - unable to wipe the smile from his face.

All this fun was making him hungry!

He took in a deep breath and the scent of burning flesh flooded his nostrils. He twisted and turned his head in an attempt to triangulate the aroma. He turned on his heels and made his way towards the odour. He could see pillars of smoke billowing from a localised source. He paused - from where he stood, he could make out the silhouettes of the men in the tribe. He recognised two of them, standing in front of a ribbed surface sporadically rotating cylindrical lengths. He approached the pit.

"You're not putting beer on the meat, are you Jack?"

The retired Air Force General narrowed his eyes at the archaeologist, "No, Daniel. Give me some credit." His gaze shifted to the advancing body, "Hey, T!"

Daniel turned to face their friend and former colleague, "Hey, Teal'c! Are you having fun? I heard you won a few games - pin the tail on the donkey, pass the parcel and even the egg and spoon race."

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Indeed. Once I decided to do as you would, I began to enjoy myself immensely."

"Huh?"

"I did not wish to be the party defecator."

Jack and Daniel exchanged a puzzled look, until an expression of understanding dawned on the bespectacled man's face.

"Oh, you mean a killjoy? A wet blanket? A party pooper?"

The warrior's lips curled slightly, "Indeed."

Daniel cast an eye over Teal'c's attire. He was wearing a white tunic with off-white pants, matching boots and a black belt.

"Who have you dressed up as, Teal'c?"

"I am Luke Skywalker."

"Of course. I should have guessed!"

Daniel's attention shifted to Jack, who was sporting an old pair of oversized BDU's. He was wielding a pair of BBQ tongs in one hand, and cradling a bottle of Guinness in the other.

"Umm, Jack? Isn't this supposed to be a space-themed costume party?"

"Hey, I'm dressed-up..!" He spread his arms out.

"...and what, pray tell, are you supposed to be?"

"I'm me - Jack O'Neill," he gestured to himself with the bottle. A wave of the amber liquid spilled from the opening and sploshed onto the wooden decking. Jack mumbled a g-rated curse, then placed his beer on the ledge and scuffed his shoe across the puddle.

Daniel's eyelids fluttered behind his glasses and he pushed the frame further up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, "Umm...I'm not sure that counts, Jack…"

"I disagree, Daniel Jackson. O'Neill has been to space, has he not?"

Daniel shrugged, "Well, I guess you can't argue with that logic."

"Exactly," Jack said, clicking the tongs together.

"What has inspired your attire today, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel popped the collar on his brown shirt and posed with his hand resting on the hip of his tan-coloured pants. A cool afternoon breeze caught the tail of his knee-length coat and it ballooned behind him.

"I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds."

Jack thoughtfully took in Daniel's ensemble, "Captain, who? What company was he with?"

"No, Jack. He's a character in Firefly - it's a sci-fi series. You know, it has that guy in it that looks like Colonel Dave Dixon?"

Teal'c highbrow's rose slightly, "Have you not seen it, O'Neill?"

Jack looked from Teal'c to Daniel, "I don't watch any sci-fi, boys."

Daniel frowned, "So anyway... where's the birthday boy? I haven't seen him yet."

"I am also yet to see him," Teal'c added in agreement.

Jacob went to run past Jack, but his father grabbed him by the collar and stopped him in his tracks. He placed a loving hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

"Jake, say hi to your Uncle's."

"Hi Unkey Dan, Unkey T!" The smallest O'Neill briefly embraced his surrogate uncles.

"We are very appreciative of the invitation, Jacob O'Neill. Are you enjoying the festivities in honour of your 3rd birthday?"

The little boy nodded.

Daniel gave him a quick once-over. "I like your costume! What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm furling!" he exclaimed.

Daniel glanced over the boy's shoulder to Jack, who raised his eyebrows in response.

He turned his attention back to the sandy-haired toddler, "Jakey, why didn't Daddy dress-up?"

"Daddy's too-elles!" he declared.

Teal'c shrugged his broad shoulders and Daniel furrowed his brow. They both looked to Jack for the toddler-to-English translation.

"He means 'O'Neill with two l's,'" came a familiar voice from behind them, "In other words, Jack took the easy way out and came as himself."

"Hey, I'm dressed - still effort!" Jack hollered.

"Hey Sam," Daniel greeted his friend with a hug and a chase kiss. His gaze fell to her blossoming belly, "You look...amazing."

She moved across to the Jaffa and threw her arms around his neck.

"You look very well, Colonel Carter."

"Thanks, guys...and thanks for coming!" Releasing the ex-Prime, she went to stand by her husband. Her hand fell to the curve of her stomach.

Jack gave her a quick peck and whispered into her ear, "You've never looked more beautiful."

Sam blushed, "I'm going to make the rounds."

Jack nodded in acknowledgement.

Sam mussed with her son's unruly hair and gently directed him towards the lawn, "Come on, scamp! Let's go talk to your guests."

She glanced over her shoulder, "Don't forget to take a loot bag on your way out! They're mainly filled with Swedish Fish and Butterfingers - they're Jake's favourites!"

Daniel waited until Sam and Jake were out of earshot, "I heard that!" he teased Jack, "The cynical Air Force officer has a heart!"

"You have indeed mellowed, O'Neill."

Jack levelled the tongs at his two former charges, "...well, don't tell anyone," he looked around the yard, "I've got a reputation to uphold."

Daniel and Teal'c traded a look of understanding as they watched Jack's gaze flicker to his wife's six.

"I think the feline is out of the container, O'Neill."

Daniel threw a thumb towards Teal'c, "What he said."

Jack leaned towards the two men, "Have you _SEEN_ my wife lately?" he said in hushed tones. There was a sparkle in his brown eyes that neither of them had seen before. Although it was unspoken, both Daniel and Teal'c knew it was due to Jack's contentment with life.

"Yes, Jack," Daniel agreed, "You're very lucky."

Jack beamed at his friends, "I know, right? Just look at how..."

Daniel placed his hands over his ears and hummed loudly to block out Jack's voice, "Ewww! She's practically a sister to us! We don't want to hear the details..."

Jack laughed.

Daniel cleared his throat. His eyes aimlessly scanned the party for a distraction.

"So, Teal'c..! Have you ever tried a frank?" he tilted his head towards the sausages on the grill.

"I have not," he looked at Jack, "although I believe I may have consumed a variant - I think it was called a pig in a blanket. What is Frank?"

A glint of mischief crossed over Jack's pupils, "Well, T...that's a difficult one to answer. The better question might be - who _was_ Frank?"

"Jack..?" Daniel sung in a concerned timbre.

Jack raised his hand to silence the scientist.

"Well, you see," Jack began, addressing the Jaffa, "usually sausages are made from beef and pork trimmings…" he took a step towards his brawny buddy, "...but I had these especially made..."

A tiny, almost microscopic bead of sweat began to form between the creases on Teal'c's forehead.

"To what are you referring, O'Neill?"

"The main ingredient is from a very special animal…"

Daniel's eyes rolled in his skull and he muttered, "Oh brother."

Jack reached behind him and captured a cooked sausage between the arms of his tongs. He brought it around and tore the end off with his teeth. He munched on the stump, his expressionless eyes never leaving Teal'c's. Teal'c tried to remain steely, but his neck bulged as he swallowed hard.

"...a party animal. It's made from 100% party animal."


	10. A Rhyme Spanning Space and Time

**Lately, I've been inspired by Dr Seuss. In RL, I've been reading his books to my friend's son. I became consumed by the idea of writing a tribute to Jack and Sam set to verse. Please excuse the clumsy rhyming! This is my first attempt at syllabic poetry, so please be kind! Freya x**

* * *

"Okay, Jakey! Tomorrow is going to be a very big day for you. I promised your Mama and Dada you'd get a good night's sleep."

The sandy-haired toddler gazed up at his surrogate Uncle from behind a Simpson's themed comforter.

"Story, Unkey Danny!" he pleaded through bright blue eyes.

"Okay, Jake," Daniel relented, "Scoot over and I'll read you a special story."

Jacob eagerly shuffled to one side, and the archeologist bumped up next to him. He reached for a crudely binded tome from the bedside table.

"This is something I've been working on," he passed the typed pages between his hands, "It's a very special story about two important people…"

The tiny boy blinked in mild interest.

"It's a bit of a love story, but I think you'll like it. Now remember, I'm a linguist and not a poet..!"

"Okay, Unkey Danny!" The smallest O'Neill agreed. He placed a chubby hand on his Uncle's arm.

Daniel took a deep breath, "Here we go!"

 _A long time ago on a place called Earth,  
A man named Jack didn't know his worth,  
He was sad and mad and felt very bad,  
He'd lost the boy that once called him Dad,  
He looked to the stars for sense and guidance,  
The answer he got - only silence,  
Until he was offered a one-way pass,  
To a distant land of sand, no grass._

 _Now Uncle Danny had a science hunch,_  
 _Pyras' were pads for a Goaldy bunch,_  
 _On Abydos he was very surprised,_  
 _His foolish theories were well advised,_  
 _As a man of facts he did not believe,_  
 _That love at first sight he could achieve,_  
 _Until he met a young lady Sha'ra,_  
 _That made him want to marry and stay._

 _The people were kind but ruled by evil,_  
 _But Jack had a plan to cause upheaval,_  
 _He had an explosive of great power,_  
 _He'd use to crush Ra's landing tower,_  
 _With the help of friends they liberated,_  
 _The smarmy ruler they all hated,_  
 _The craft went boom and with it Ra lord,_  
 _Dan stayed behind, the others abroad,_  
 _Despite being wormhole pioneers,_  
 _The gate stayed dormant for many years._

 _Now in D.C a physicist named Sam,_  
 _Was working on a dialing program,_  
 _The brains in her head were extremely smart,_  
 _And in her chest, an enormous heart,_  
 _She unlocked the secrets to the big gate,_  
 _It had seven chevs, or was that eight?_  
 _Desperate to prove her mind and muscle,_  
 _She challenged Jack to an arm tussle,_  
 _She promised he'd adore her one day,_  
 _His true feelings he'd try to downplay._

 _On Chulak, Apophis's prime named T,_  
 _Denounced his god to save the tauri,_  
 _A warrior of strength, honour and might,_  
 _He never gave-up without a fight,_  
 _He had a mate, Jack called him Junior,_  
 _It's powers were quite peculiar,_  
 _He dreamt of freeing his people Jaffa,_  
 _Who were oppressed on world's near and far,_  
 _No place to go, considered a traitor,_  
 _He joined the team, their cause was greater._

 _Sha'ra was taken, there was much despair,_  
 _Dan vowed to save her, he had no care,_  
 _With Jack, Sam and T - Daniel makes four,_  
 _They set out to even the Earth's score!_  
 _Armed with helmets, guns, wits and bravado,_  
 _Weapons of choice in Colorado,_  
 _Jack lead his team to planets unknown,_  
 _Goalds beware! You'll be overthrown!_

 _We must discuss the villains of this piece,_  
 _Their menacing ways - they would not cease,_  
 _They had booming voices and glowing eyes,_  
 _And their arrogance Jack did despise,_  
 _He didn't want to capitulate,_  
 _Their lifestyles he loved to berate,_  
 _Believing they were important beings,_  
 _They underrated very many things,_  
 _They considered humans to be just meat,_  
 _And didn't think they could be defeat._

 _There were other heroes in this here plight,_  
 _The Asgard were essential in spite,_  
 _Of their feelings humans were too young,_  
 _To join in the battle they'd begun,_  
 _They thought that Jack was a giant leap forward,_  
 _His D.N.A could not be ignored,_  
 _The Tok'ra were opportunistic peeps,_  
 _Although they gave Colonel Jack the creeps,_  
 _They battled the bad Goald for many decades,_  
 _Not letting others join the crusade,_  
 _Papa Jake acted as an inside man,_  
 _Selmak helped to extend his lifespan,_  
 _It was only he Jack would tolerate,_  
 _The others would just make him frustrate!_

 _Many things happened and years passed by,_  
 _In summary, just to verify;_

 _A second gate was found stuck under ice,_  
 _It was cold and dark - no paradise!_  
 _Jack was hurt and Sam was very concerned,_  
 _Hugs for warmth, it was Sarah he yearned,_  
 _Something deep in Sam was disappointed,_  
 _The whole thing made her feel disjointed._

 _Shortly after, Dan went to an A.R,_  
 _The world was similar, but bizarre,_  
 _Sam never joined the Air Force united,_  
 _Which inspired a love requited,_  
 _She was engaged to one Jack O'Neill,_  
 _But they died before sealing the deal,_  
 _Dan told his team about the relation,_  
 _Jack said it was not regulation,_  
 _He failed to mention the feelings he had,_  
 _Were not unlike his A.R comrade,_  
 _It was possible theoretically,_  
 _Their chemistry was magnetically,_  
 _Visible to everyone but not Dan,_  
 _To this he was a very blind man._

 _The mirror came into play one more time,_  
 _A.R Sam was the victim of crime,_  
 _She'd lost her man in a fighting battle,_  
 _The presence of our Jack did baffle,_  
 _It made him think there was something right there,_  
 _'Tween him and Sam he wasn't aware._

 _On Edora Jack fell for a new girl,_  
 _His absence did make Sam's brain whirl,_  
 _She worked for three long months to bring him home,_  
 _And realised that her feelings had grown,_  
 _He didn't seem to acknowledge her fears,_  
 _And to her eyes it did bring tears._

 _The young Tok'ra Anise, or was it Frey?_  
 _Forced our favourite two to convey,_  
 _A depth of feeling they could not admit,_  
 _Unless just one decided to quit,_  
 _Although it might sound like a huge cliche,_  
 _They would have died, they had no real say,_  
 _He admitted to feeling more than most,_  
 _Considering his commanding post,_  
 _They decided it was way, way too soon,_  
 _And agreed to leave it in the room._

 _The team met a gentleman Malachi,_  
 _Dan thought he was a very neat guy,_  
 _Until he powered up an endless loop,_  
 _That effected just two of the group,_  
 _T and Jack had to learn the old latin,_  
 _To break a never ending pattern,_  
 _To prevent his mind from turning mush,_  
 _Jack planted a big kiss on his crush,_  
 _There were no bad consequences,_  
 _It was a delight for the senses._

 _Prisoners beneath all the lies and ice,_  
 _Jack and Sam didn't even think twice,_  
 _And question the love feelings that there were,_  
 _Despite the stamp making minds a-blur,_  
 _Because they knew the dizzying feeling,_  
 _Was way too strong to be misleading,_  
 _But when their true memories did return,_  
 _They were both disappointed to learn,_  
 _Their military titles prevented,_  
 _Their feelings from being cemented._

 _When Sam was hurt and Prometheus trapped,_  
 _And her fellow team had been kidnapped,_  
 _Jack worried he would never get to live,_  
 _A life with Sam, and never forgive,_  
 _Himself for failing to communicate,_  
 _Why she was more than just a teammate,_  
 _On the ship Sam was consumed by visions,_  
 _And questioned all of her life decisions,_  
 _Including her inappropriate love,_  
 _For one man she had placed high above,_  
 _Her own happiness and sanity,_  
 _It was time to brush aside vanity,_  
 _And pursue something more obtainable,_  
 _That would be much more sustainable._

 _Her brother set her up with a friend cop,_  
 _And although her work he would eavesdrop,_  
 _He offered her a life that was normal,_  
 _Even taking her to a formal!_  
 _It didn't take him that long to propose,_  
 _And even though Jack didn't oppose,_  
 _The whole thing made him feel quite uneasy,_  
 _And even Sam was acting queasy!_

 _When Jack's brain the ancient facts took over,_  
 _Sam decided she couldn't pass over,_  
 _The opportunity to say she feels,_  
 _More than what they'd tried to conceal,_  
 _She tried to speak before he had to go,_  
 _But all he could whisper was "I know."_

 _Sam's head wasn't in the wedding plan,_  
 _She knew Pete wasn't a better man,_  
 _She drove to Jack's house to have the talk,_  
 _When a new work acquaintance in did walk,_  
 _Revealed to be Jack's new lady friend,_  
 _Her presence Sam couldn't comprehend,_  
 _An untimely phone call broke the nightmare,_  
 _Sam's presence was required elsewhere._

 _But the damage was done, she saw the look,  
Their relationship she would unhook,  
She told Jack there was something very wrong,  
To her his heart would never belong,  
She asked why they had allowed all the rules,  
To leave them feeling like quite the fools,  
When love is not something you really choose,  
It finds you - but do nothing and lose,  
The chance of finding everlasting joy,  
You better believe, it's not a ploy!_

 _Across the base in a hospital bed,  
Jake said something that was unsaid,  
He suspected Sam wasn't that content,  
His true intention was to prevent,  
His daughter from marrying the wrong guy,  
Her feelings for Jack he did imply,_

 _Jack offered Sam a shoulder to embrace,_

 _Their long fingers she did interlace,_

 _She said his steady support did amaze,_

 _And to that all he said was "always."_

 _With Anubis defeated, peace was struck,  
Jack asked Sam - couldn't believe his luck,  
She finally agreed to go fishing!  
After all the long years of wishing!  
Frank discussions were had and deals were done,  
A future for them could now be spun!_

 _Sam wanted to take their new status slow,_  
 _But little did the new Colonel know,_  
 _Jack had already put into motion,_  
 _A plan to cement his devotion,_  
 _That involved a secret blue sapphire ring,_  
 _To announce it was not just a fling,_  
 _When the timing of everything was right,_  
 _He popped the question - to his delight,_  
 _She said yes - there was no hesitation,_  
 _The team joined them in celebration!_

 _No longer would he look to the ceiling,  
Finally! His life had some meaning!_

 _The rest is details, but suffice to say,_  
 _Jack and Sam are happy to this day!_

 _I swear that every word of this is true,_  
 _They took all that love and they made you,_  
 _When morning comes a brother you'll be,_  
 _Lil boy or girl we shall wait and see_  
 _We're at the end of our true love story,_  
 _It spoke of honour, truth and glory,_  
 _There are messages that span time and space,_  
 _That are too important to erase,_  
 _Although the ones you love may come and part,_  
 _Always, always stay true to your heart!_

Daniel gently sat the book down and rubbed at the eyes behind his glasses. Next to him, the lids of the precious boy fluttered rapidly in slumber and a small smile danced on his lips. Daniel placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight, Jakey. Sleep tight."


	11. Blast From Behind

**T minus 5 minutes and 0 seconds**

"Carter, how bad is it?" His expression was taunt, serious. The only indication of his concern was a deep vertical crease between his eyes. Despite years of practising the fine art of facial schooling, he wasn't able to shake his tell.

Her clear blue eyes were wide and unblinking. "It's not looking good, Sir."

Although their feet were firmly planted on the 'romantic' side of the relationship fence, she often reverted to calling him 'sir' in high-pressure situations. It was a hard habit to break. She'd willingly followed him into the bowels of hell for 7 years. It didn't bother him. He had the same problem. She'd always be 'Carter' to him.

His stance shifted. His jaw was set, his back straight, his shoulders squared off. "Were there any...casualties?"

She held his soft, warm gaze for a few extra seconds, desperate to find some heat in their cold, hard reality. "Just the one."

His gaze dropped to the floor and a puff of air escaped his lips. Losing hard-working personnel had never gotten any easier. It may have been the nature of their job, but there was nothing natural about a life cut short. It was equal parts noble and tragic.

She swallowed hard to keep the tears from breaking their levee. "We were only a few hours into the first mission…"

He placed a comforting hand on her slumped shoulder. "...try not to dwell, Carter. We need to focus on the task at hand. There'll be time to get sentimental latter."

Her chin dropped in understanding.

"What do we know so far?"

She righted her posture and cleared her throat. Her movements were fluid and deliberate. In that instant, she transformed from Samantha into Colonel Carter. "Well, Sir. I'm not _exactly_ sure what happened. There was definitely an explosion of some kind."

He cast a cautious eye over the room. "Do you think it's still a threat?"

"I'm not sure, Sir."

"Let's figure out what we're up against."

 **T Minus 4 Minutes and 20 Seconds**

"Sir…" The 'r' fell slowly from her lips and went up an octave. "I think we have a problem."

His pulse was beating hard and fast against his rib cage. "Carter..?"

"I think it's going to blow again." Her voice was louder now, more urgent.

"How long do we have?" He was trying to remain calm, but there was a nervous fluttering in his stomach that was threatening to override all logical thought.

"It's hard to tell, Sir." The colour of her eyes shifted from blue to grey as they eagerly searched the room for inspiration.

"Do you think you can diffuse it?"

"I don't know, Sir." Her eyes were on him now. There was a hint of regret, anxiety and love lurking behind them.

"Do what you can, Carter. I have faith in you."

 **T Minus 3 Minutes and 10 Seconds**

Her head tilted as she carefully studied the undercarriage, ensuring she understood every inch. The corner of her bottom lip slipped between her teeth in concentration.

He started to pace in an effort to dislodge his nervous energy. He flipped back the Velcro cover from his watch. They were cutting it close.

"I'm getting that helpless feeling, Carter. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, could you grab my pack?" She nodded in the direction of her bag, her hands still occupied.

He tore open the mouth of the pack and thrust his hand into its depths. "What did you need?'

He tried to anticipate her needs and extracted an item. "Did you need one of these?"

Her features puckered as she carefully considered the object in his hand. "...not yet. Could you pass me the..?"

He removed another article and her face lit up with appreciation.

"Yes! Thank you."

He watched her nimble hands as they worked.

"Are you going to cut the red one?"

"I'm thinking about it. I don't want to, but it might be our only option."

He noticed a few droplets of sweat forming on her brow and reached across to dab them away.

"You're doing a great job, by the way. I don't want to rush you, but we're running out of time."

"I'm moving as fast as I can, but I've never seen anything like this before!"

 **T Minus 40 Seconds**

Her hands suddenly went rigid.

"Carter?"

She shushed at him sharply through gritted teeth.

He stilled and turned an inquisitive ear towards her.

All the colour drained from her cheeks. "Did you hear that?"

He shook his head.

"I think we're out of time."

Their eyes met - and for the briefest of moments, there was clarity amidst the chaos.

"Carter, I love you."

He reached for her hand.

"I love you too."

A thunderous applause, followed by a chant of "more, more" broke through the tension.

Jack and Sam turned to face their audience and bowed in gratitude.

"Thank you, thank you - we'll be here all week!"

"Umm...guys? What's going on?"

They spun around to face the familiar baritone.

Jack checked his watch again. "Daniel. Are you early?"

The archaeologist took a few tentative steps into the nursery.

"Nope." He looked around the room, taking in the mess of clothes and baby supplies. "Although I'm starting to wish I was late. What are you up to?"

"Just defusing a nuclear diaper. We lost one brand new jumpsuit...and a little dignity."

Daniel gave Jake a high-five before walking over to the changing table. He gently ran a hand over the baby's wispy blonde hair. She looked up at him. The tiny fist in her mouth couldn't suppress the smile that lifted the sides of her lips. "Nuclear diaper?" He noticed the mutilated red jumpsuit and the plastic bag filled with used wipes and diapers on the floor. He scrunched up his nose in disgust. "You know what? I don't want to know."

"Good call."

"...but why the theatrics?"

"We were just putting on an act for Jake's benefit. You know, reliving the glory days. It's the only way to make this situation fun."

Sam nodded in agreement with her husband.

Daniel thoughtfully scratched the side of his head.

"Wait, reliving the glory days? When did SG-1 ever change a diaper?" He leaned towards Jack, "Did you lose bladder control when you had that ageing disease?"

Sam coughed to mask her amusement.

Jack defensively crossed his arms. "You're the one who's always acting like a big baby."

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Do I have to separate you boys?" She said, picking up Gracie and throwing the clean baby onto her left shoulder. "It says a lot about you two when the toddler and baby are better behaved."

The two men were still sizing each other up when the sound of bubbles, followed by a foul odour emanated from the baby.

Sam's eyes widened and her face soured as the smell hit her nostrils. She offered the baby to Jack with outstretched arms.

"Okay, Daddy - your turn."


	12. Moot Point

He'd been ushered out of retirement to complete one last mission. He normally shied away from this kind of assignment - too many bad memories from his Black Ops days, but the kingdom was counting on him. His services had been specifically requested by the King. Apparently, the King was familiar with his previous body of work and knew of his capabilities. He'd been asked to dispose of the crown's number one enemy in a discrete and painless manner. It was a task of the utmost importance.

He'd accepted the job in secret. In principle, he hated lying to Carter - but in this case, it was safer to keep her in the dark. If things went south, she'd have plausible deniability. It was his only means of protecting her.

The target had become a prominent figure of late, rising quickly from relative obscurity. It had appeared in the town around the holidays - a weary traveller from Jersey. It was charming at first and proved itself to be a valuable member of society - working as a healer and motivational speaker.

One fateful night, the Princess developed a terrible fever. She was the King and Queen's youngest heir and their only daughter. They rallied the best doctors in the land to cure her, but her health only deteriorated. As a last resort, they consulted the traveller. In a matter of hours, her vital signs had improved and she made a miraculous recovery. The Queen was very grateful and granted the visitor full access to the palace. The visitor used this to its full advantage and became a permanent fixture. Its popularity increased, particularly with the Queen and Princess. They came to regard it as a mystic, a visionary and a prophet. Its influence spread across the land and soon the traveller had the entire kingdom under its spell.

The King, however, could not be swayed. He lived in the real world and refused to fall for its charm and utopian propaganda. He was alone in his opinions, and they made him increasingly unpopular in the kingdom. He became concerned that his days in power were numbered and decided to take matters into his own hands. The King knew that hiring a professional was an extreme remedy to his paranoia, but he took the corruption of his kingdom very seriously.

Executing the...execution had proved quite difficult. As a guest of the palace, the traveller was under 24 hour guard. Some might have called it untouchable - but Jack O'Neill was never bashful in the face of adversity!

As a trained killer, he knew that understanding his target was the best means of defeating it. He spent hours studying its daily routine and memorising its movements. Once he had a comprehensive grasp of its schedule, he determined the best time to strike. The visitor was surrounded by three of more people during the day - but at night, there was only one. According to his inside sources, the night watchman had a tendency to fall asleep on the job. This was his window of opportunity.

Under the veil of night, he crept into the Princess's quarters. The full moon was casting eerie blue beams onto the floor - illuminating the room with enough light to deem a torch unnecessary. He hugged the wall to remain in the shadows and shuffled towards the window. The traveller could be found here most nights, watching over the Princess from afar. He reached for the weapon in his back pocket...but the target wasn't there! Had his plans been foiled? He glanced around the room and found the familiar silhouette of his foe - that sneaky bastard! He couldn't believe his eyes. The traveller was in bed with the Princess! Its hands were resting possessively on the Princess's chest. Even in slumber, the smarmy worm had the audacity to look smug. His blood started to boil.

He had to put an end to this.

He quietly moved towards the bed and made a lunge for the traveller. He reached for its throat and lifted it above the sheets.

"Hello...Moo-Moo. Prepare to meet your maker…" he turned the toy cow over in his hand, "...who appears to be Mattel."

 _"I love you..!"_ declared the talking bovine.

He winced and glanced down at Gracie. Her breathing was steady and her eyelids were fluttering rapidly - she was still sound asleep.

 _"Let's cuddle..!"_

He ordered the toy to shut-up with a sharp hiss. He ran his hand across Moo-Moo's undercarriage, searching desperately for an off switch. "How do you turn this infernal thing off?" he muttered to himself.

 _"You're my favourite person..!"_

"Not for much longer," he thought. He could kill Daniel for gifting Gracie this stupid talking cow. It's chirpy, melodious voice haunted his dreams. Carter and Jake loved it too. They thought it was adorable. He just found it annoying.

He grabbed his screwdriver and pried off Moo-Moo's mechanics. He flashed the toy his best "you've-been-defeated" smirk. Once again, good had triumphed over the forces of evil! He'd be chalking this up as another victory. He re-positioned Moo-Moo next to Gracie and dropped a soft kiss on the baby's head.

With an air of self-satisfaction, he walked towards the master bedroom. He slowly turned the doorknob and slipped inside. He was still congratulating himself on a job well done when the bedside lamp flickered on. He froze. Carter was sitting upright. Her hair was flat on one side and the thin straps of her pyjama top had slid off her shoulders. She was glaring at him through half-mast eyes - her pupils still fighting the bright light.

"Did you lobotomise Moo-Moo?"

He glanced down at the remnants of Moo-Moo's voice box. His left eye twitched with guilt. "Umm...I'm thinking of it as a strategic silencing."

"Jack..! I can't believe you did that! Gracie's going to be crushed."

He defiantly shook his head. "Carter, she's a baby. I doubt she'll notice. Moo-Moo is still in tact...mostly."

"...but you took away his spirit."

"Come on, Carter. You can't tell me this thing doesn't annoy you…"

He flicked the box on and the same three phrases rung out on repeat. She remained steely at first, but after the tenth time the cracks in her resolve started to show. She flinched, before diving onto his hands and switching it off.

"Okay, okay! You win! It's really annoying."

"I told you..!"

He watched as her face transitioned from relieved to ashamed. "I kinda feel bad. Moo-Moo really lifted Gracie's spirits when she had that terrible cold a few weeks back."

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for one of her hands. "Carter, Moo-Moo isn't a mystical healer - he's a toy. You're selling yourself short! Your attentiveness as a mother was the reason she bounced back so quickly."

She thoughtfully nibbled at her bottom lip. "So...what do you plan to do with it?" She acknowledged the box with a nod of her head.

"Oh...I have some plans for Moo-Moo, don't you worry. I might need your help, though…"

 **A few days later at the SGC...**

Daniel was trying to negotiate through the doorway of his office with a stack of books in one hand and a fresh cup of coffee in the other.

 _"I love you..!"_

The unexpected proclamation brought him to a screeching halt. He lost his grip on the polystyrene cup and the hot liquid shot across the cement floor. He swore under his breath and stepped around the mess to place his books on the metal workbench. His eyes darted around the room in search of the source.

"..hello..?" He could have sworn he heard something. With a frown, he stepped back into the corridor.

 _"Let's cuddle..!"_

Okay, he'd definitely heard something that time. He glanced in both directions. The hallway was completely deserted.

"Is anybody there..?" he gingerly called out.

When there was no reply, he walked back into the office.

 _"You're my favourite person..!"_

Who was that? Was he going crazy?

"Vala? Is that you?"

 **Back at the Carter-O'Neill residence...**

"Do you think Daniel's going to realise that we rigged-up Moo-Moo's remains to a motion sensor?" Sam was bouncing Gracie on her hip as she glided between the fridge and toaster.

Jack let the spoon drop from his hand and it hit the porcelain cereal bowl with a clink. "Probably...but not before Moo-Moo's had his revenge. I might use my connections to get a copy of the security footage from Landry."

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly in mild amusement. "Shouldn't you be using your powers for good and not evil?"

He shrugged. "Isn't that a m _oooo_ t point?"


End file.
